Colleen Riley, 7, reads to Parker, a portugese water dog at Hamilton Avenue School.
Late summer afternoons are for reading on the beach with or without dogs.. Julia Keller, from the Chicago Tribune, wrote this wonderful review of dog books.
Sit. Stay. Read. (Why dog books are so fetching)
When I was in graduate school in Ohio, a colleague called one day and said that two stray dogs had shown up on her front porch. I was instantly skeptical: Two stray dogs ?
Aren’t stray dogs, by definition, lone wolves?
Do stray dogs typically rove in tandem, like Butch and Sundance, Laurel and Hardy, Thelma and Louise?
My friend was in no mood to argue the finer points of canine travel etiquette. She was in a fix: She could only keep one of the dogs . If she couldn’t find a home for the other one, well …
Simmering within that ellipsis was the probable fate of the unclaimed pooch.
And thus I acquired Ramsey. Ramsey, the dogs of my heart. Ramsey, the dogs of a lifetime.
Most people have a dog story just like mine. A dog arrives, makes a little mischief (a chewed-up slipper here, an over-turned garbage can there) and before you know it, an existence without the dog seems unthinkable. And yet, of course, the day comes when you must say goodbye. As essayist Thomas Lynch reminds us, “Grief is the tax we pay on our attachments.” Ramsey — a flop-eared, mild-mannered mutt who loved hot dogs and hated thunderstorms and fireworks — is no more, but I will mourn her forever.
I wanted to mention Ramsey so that I’m not accused of being heartless and cold and anti-canine when I say: A lot of dog stories annoy me. Far too many of them are sentimental and silly. They strip dogs of their dignity. They try to make dogs seem human — as if being human is the highest of compliments. It’s not, actually. In my book, it borders on insult.
Dog books are always popular, but this year may mark some kind of tipping point.
Inspired perhaps by the inexplicable success of the mawkish and insipid book and movie “Marley & Me,” a slew of dog books are romping into bookstores even as I type, doubtless knocking things over and leaving muddy paw prints. They include the recent paperback publication of the best-selling Garth Stein novel “The Art of Racing in the Rain” (2008) and a non-fiction book called “One Nation Under Dogs: Adventures in the New World of Prozac-Popping Puppies, Dog-Park Politics and Organic Pet Food” (Henry Holt) by Michael Schaffer, one of those books that tells us what we already know — Americans love their pets! — but does so in a fresh, enter-taining way. In the next month or so, you can choose from “Soul of a Dog: Reflections on the Spirits of the Animals of Bedlam Farm” (Villard) by Jon Katz, “Happy Dogs: Caring for Your Dog’s Body, Mind and Spirit” (New American Library) by Billy Rafferty and Jill Cahr, and “A Year of Cats and Dogs” (Permanent Press), a novel by Margaret Hawkins.
No two dogs, and no two dog books, are alike. I loved “Soul of a Dog,” got some useful tips from “Happy Dog,” and ended up relishing “A Year of Cats and Dogs” as a quirky, sparkling novel that I intend to reread right away.
Conversely, I couldn’t wait to be rid of “The Art of Racing in the Rain.”
I suppose there’s nothing inherently wrong with a story narrated by a dog, but any book featuring the lines, “Sure, I’m stuffed into a dog’s body, but that’s just the shell. It’s what’s inside that’s important. The soul. And my soul is very human,” instantly sets my teeth on edge. No thoughtful dog desires a human soul. Where do some people get the crazy idea, promulgated by novels like this one, that animals yearn to be human? Dogs get along just fine, thanks very much, without being able to speak or use credit cards or surf the Internet.
Katz, on the other hand, respects dogs for what they are: dogs. He grants the same sweet favor to sheep, cows, cats and chickens.
Like his previous books, “Soul of a Dog” is a lyrical yet unsentimental memoir about the bond between people and animals. While exploring the question of whether animals possess souls, Katz recounts daily life on his farm in upstate New York.
You will admire and respect his dog Rose, but not because she’s cute or cuddly — or, heaven forbid, chatty. She’s a working dog.
“It’s deep in her bloodlines, the result of generations of service,” Katz writes.
Dogs inspire a protective instinct in us, a heightened sense of responsibility. That helps explain why the outcry against NFL quarterback Michael Vick, onetime proprietor of a dog-fighting operation, was so loud and so passionate, and why last week’s news that he has joined the Philadelphia Eagles drew protests, even though Vick served prison time for his transgression and seems contrite.
We seem to need dog books almost as much as we need dogs, and we need dogs a lot.
Ramsey’s name, by the way, came from a favorite childhood book: “Remarkable Ramsey, the Talking Dog” (1967) by Barbara Rinkhoff. This tome marks the single exception to my rule that forbids yammering canines.
And its persistence in my memory matches, I am sure, a book in your past featuring a pooch as protagonist, a book that has stuck with you through life’s storms and rainbows. There’s a simple test to see if a dog book has achieved greatness: Its spirit must live up to the creature it describes, to the dog it tries to make immortal. It must be worthy of my Ramsey, and it must be worthy of yours too.
THESE DOGS HAVE DIGNITY — AND REAL BIT
Sentimentality is the curse of these dogs book. Confronted with bright eyes and furry muzzle, we melt, and after that, we take leave of our senses. How else to explain the depressing number of mediocre dogs books that scale the best-seller lists like hungry mutts do kitchen counters, once they’ve spotted a sandwich on the cutting board? We’re simply too besotted to judge wisely. Yet there are truly splendid works of literature, both fiction and non-fiction, that happen to be about dogs, works that don’t condescend to dogs by presenting them as always good and kind — some diversity, please! — or as foolishly simple creatures with lolling tongues. Here are some dog-themed books that have charmed, changed and enlightened me, from childhood on:
“Lad: A Dog” (1919) by Albert Payson Terhune. These linked stories get a little repetitive, but the animating spirit behind them is so genuine and sunny as to make them irresistible.
“Old Yeller” (1956) by Fred Gipson. If you only know this classic through the Disney film, do yourself a favor and read the book. It’s not that the movie is bad — Gipson wrote the screenplay and it’s a faithful adaptation — but rather that the novel is told in a simple, modest, beautiful way. It will remind you of the best of Willa Cather.
“Follow My Leader” (1957) by James Garfield. When Jimmy is blinded by a firecracker, his guide dog, Leader, becomes an adored companion — but not right away.
“Big Red” (1945) by Jim Kjel-gaard. The author wrote some 40 books for young adults, including many about Irish setters. This one was turned into a Disney film. His novels are filled with action, adventure and a keen feeling for the outdoors.
“A Good Dog” (2006) and “Izzy and Lenore” (2008) by Jon Katz. These books are among the author’s many quiet masterpieces about living and working with dogs and other animals on an upstate New York farm.
“No Bad Dogs: The Woodhouse Way” (1982) by Barbara Woodhouse. This British writer was to dog training what Julia Child was to cooking: An authoritative but loving presence, determined to educate.
Another suggestion from Woof: First Dogs: the American Presidents and Their Best Friends by Roy Rowan and Brooke Janis
Greenwich resident Roy Rowan, together with Brooke Janis, have written an update on their book about American Presidents and their dogs.
I met with Roy Rowan recently and asked him about First Dogs.
Woof: How did you come to write a book about the presidents and their dogs?
Rowan: I went to a lecture about Franklin Roosevelt, and the lecturer mentioned that Margaret Suckley, his niece, gave him Fala. When I heard about that, I wondered what about all the other presidents and their dogs. And that was the genesis. Just like that.
Woof (seeing no sign of a dog in the home): You must have some fondness for dogs?
Rowan: I do have a fondness for dogs. When were were first married, my brother and his wife, who were both veterinarians, gave us a pomeranian as a wedding present. And that little dog was wonderful. We had a black cocker spaniel after that when the kids were younger. Then we had a golden retriever when we lived in Byram, (CT) for 10 years. He was wonderful; he was great.
Woof: (still looking around for a dog): You don’t have a dog now?
Rowan: We’re not allowed to have dogs here. If we were allowed, we might have a dog.
Woof: (Hmmm).
Author Roy Rowan in his home in Greenwich.
The book is a delightful look at all the first dogs including President Obama’s Bo, and their presidents. Another reason to tell future presidents of the United States: Must love dogs!
More of Bo, the First Dog from the AP wire:
Here he is, the First Dog:
This June 19, 2009, file photo provided by the White House shows the official portrait of the Obama family dog "Bo", a Portuguese water dog, on the South Lawn of the White House. The Obama White House, known for embracing the newest digital trends, is inviting Internet users to download and print out the baseball card for the first family's dog, Bo Obama. The card says you can call him the "first dog of the United States." (AP Photo/Official White House Photo, Chuck Kennedy, File)
And with his family:
In this April 14, 2009, photo President Barack Obama is almost jerked off his feet as he shows off the first family's new dog Bo, a 6-month-old Portuguese water dog, as his daughters Malia, left, and Sasha Obama, right, run after them on the South Lawn of the White House in Washington. (AP Photo/Ron Edmonds, File)
And on a walk:
FILE - This July 4, 2009 file photo shows President Barack Obama's family dog "Bo," going for a walk on the lawn of the north side of the White House in Washington. Most of his days begin with early morning walks with Michelle Obama, and end with a nighttime jaunt with President Barack Obama, the couple juggling their four-legged family member in shifts the way the first lady says they once handled daughters Malia and Sasha. (AP Photo/Alex Brandon, File)
And recently, coming home after a vacation at Martha’s Vinyard:
In this photo taken Sunday Aug. 30, 2009, Bo Obama walks away from Air Force One on his way back to the White House from Andrews Air Force Base, Md., after a vacation on Martha's Vineyard with the first family. President Barack Obama's Portuguese water dog has settled into into White House life. He has torn through magazines and stray socks, sunk his teeth into the president's gym shoes, and charm school taught him to sit, heel and shake a paw on command. (AP Photo/Alex Brandon)
